Today, almost no one leaves home without opening up Google Maps. A few taps, and a robotic voice tells you every turn to make. It is simple, fast, and accurate. However, it also means that something important has quietly disappeared throughout time. “When I was growing up, you either knew how to read a map or you ended up in the wrong city,” said lifelong Queens resident Mark Ratner. “You learned the streets. You memorized shortcuts. You paid attention.”
Before smartphones, finding your way meant keeping a folded paper map in the glove compartment. You had to squint at and read tiny street names, plan your route ahead of time, and sometimes make a few wrong turns along the way. It meant stopping at gas stations to ask for directions, remembering landmarks, getting lost, and eventually finding your way. It meant trusting your gut when you realized you had no idea where you were.
“I explored the neighborhood and the surrounding areas all the time when I was a teenager, occasionally even getting lost,” said Hillel Feuerman, who spent his early years riding his bike around Queens. “But that was how you figured things out. You learned the hard way, and it stuck.” Feuerman, now a Florida resident, still finds time to ride. But despite all of the technology at his fingertips, he prefers to leave his phone in the car when possible.
Getting lost was not something you panicked over. It was part of growing up. You figured it out, asked someone for help, and tried again. And every time you found your way back, you built more confidence.
Today, there is an actual cost to always having access to Google Maps, and many people now rely on it. Most people do not learn to pay attention to where they are; they rely on a phone signal and an app to think for them. When the phone dies or service cuts out, they are entirely lost and immediately panic. “Sometimes when we go somewhere new, I encourage my kids to try to guess where we are going so that they pay attention to the road signs and take note of the directions to aid in their search for clues that would help them figure out the destination,” Feuerman said. “I want them to feel what it is like to notice where they are. I want them to be aware of the world around them, not just stare at a screen.”
Rachel Conners, who grew up taking family road trips up and down the East Coast, remembers how vital those early lessons were. “We had a battered Rand McNally atlas in the back seat,” she said. “You learned to read it. You figured out where you were by looking at the exits, the towns, and the landmarks. If you got lost, you worked your way back. That is just how it was.”
Technology has made navigation more straightforward, but it has also made it passive. There is something valuable about getting lost once in a while. It forces you to slow down, think, and be more independent. It teaches you that you can figure it out, even when things do not go perfectly. Getting lost also strengthens your navigation skills by making you rely on observation, memory, and problem-solving, instead of just following a screen.
Maybe every kid should get lost a little. Maybe every teenager should have to find their own way home at least once, not because it is efficient, but because it builds something stronger than convenience. Finding your way without a voice or app telling you what to do is not just about getting from one place to another; it is about learning to trust yourself and building essential skills, and sometimes, as Feuerman alluded, getting a little lost is precisely how you figure out who and where you are.
